American Gypsy: A Memoir by Oksana Marafioti

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By Oksana Marafioti

A vibrant and humorous memoir approximately growing to be up Gypsy and turning into American

Fifteen-year-old Oksana Marafioti is a Gypsy. this implies traveling with the relatives band from the Mongolian deserts to the Siberian tundra. It capacity getting your hair lower in “the Lioness.” It additionally ability enduring sneering racism from each phase of Soviet society. Her father is set that his ladies lead a greater, freer lifestyles. In the USA! additionally, he desires to play guitar with B. B. King. And therapy melanoma together with his own magnetism. All of this he confides to the girl on the American embassy, who inexplicably permits the relations access. quickly they're residing at the sketchier facet of Hollywood.

What little Oksana and her sister, Roxy, recognize of the us they’ve realized from MTV, subcategory George Michael. It doesn’t rather arrange them for the demanding situations of immigration. Why are the glamorous Kraft Singles separately wrapped? Are the little soaps within the lodges rather unfastened? How do you shield your great new boyfriend out of your opinionated father, who wishes you to marry decently, in the clan?

In this affecting, hilarious memoir, Marafioti cracks open the secretive international of the Roma and brings the absurdities, miscommunications, and unpredictable victories of the immigrant adventure to lifestyles. With unsentimentally excellent pitch, American Gypsy reveals how Marafioti adjusted to her new lifestyles in the US, one slice of processed cheese at a time.

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The Samoans did things like kick out his headlights and piss all over the hood of his car, but he hung on for almost two hours -- with his doors locked and all his windows rolled up -- until he finally passed out from heat exhaustion, and fell on his horn. . "The Samoans went instantly crazy," he continued. "They bashed out his windshield with tire irons, then they dragged him out and castrated him. " I was watching the bartender very carefully now. The muscles on the back of his neck seemed to be bunching up, but I couldn't be sure.

He saw me as I approached, and held out his hand. "Hello, Doc," he said with a curious smile. " "I did," I said. " "Me too," he said. "I was on my way out of town when they called me. Somebody from the Marathon committee. " He glanced down at a brace of new-looking Nikons on the front seat of the GTO. "I couldn't turn them down," he said. " He stared down at his feet for a moment, then pivoted slowly to face me, rolling his eyes and baring his teeth to the sun. "This is the Eighties, Doc. " Skinner was no stranger to money.

I recognized the professional pause of a man long accustomed to the sound of his own brain working. I could almost hear it -- the high-speed memory-scan of a very personal computer that would sooner or later come up with whatever fact, link, or long-forgotten detail he was waiting for. He closed his eyes again. "The big island is different from the others," he said. "Especially that mess in Honolulu. It's like going back in time. Nobody hassles you, plenty of space to move around. " "Wonderful," I said.

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